Porcelain Masks and Coulrophobia
by Dawn Stag
Summary: There is only so much a beautiful woman can take, but did she jump or was she pushed...? The truth behind the death of Alicia Grissom. One shot Batman 1989 verse.


**Disclaimer & Authors Note:** I don't own anything, I just wish I did. I don't intend to make any form of profit nor cause any insult by the writing of this one shot. I did this for entertainment- so there (blows raspberry).

I've read several interpretations regarding how Alicia Grissom from Batman (1989) killed herself and why and felt that none of them really got her right. Now I'm not saying they were crap, most were really well written and quit enjoyable; we're all entitled to our own opinions and this is mine. Alicia wasn't a heroine, she wasn't intelligent or a strong woman; she was weak, superficial, dependent and stupid with her only strength coming from her beauty. It may sound harsh but to be honest if you really watch her and listen to her that is what she is, and I think she would have made a good Harley Quinn or was a blue print to the type of woman that attracted Jack Napier/The Joker and led to him finding a soul mate in Harley.

Please review, feedback is always appreciated- thanks.

**This one shot involves ****suicide**** and mild horror if you are offended by this sort of content I'd advise you to not read any further, you probably won't like it. If you do continue it's at you own discretion, so don't come crying to me if you don't like what I've written, you should have listened to me in the first place.

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**Porcelain Masks and Coulrophobia**

Silent tears streamed down her pale disfigured flesh, trembling hands hesitantly touched the lumpy, scarred remnants of her once beautiful face. She stared with horror at her reflection in the ornate mirror; unfortunate curiosity had egged her on to see what hid behind the porcelain mask Jack made her wear and why it was she was forbidden from looking in a mirror until he said she was finished. More than anything she wished she had not looked in that damned mirror, not laid eyes on the gruesome freak her lover had turned her into.

Jack said he'd make her beautiful.

Jack said he'd make her perfect.

But Jack wasn't Jack anymore, he was The Joker and his idea of perfection was an abomination she couldn't face any longer. Feeling nausea build within her, she turned from the mirror and stumbled across the room, forcing the mask back on to her warm, rough skin. Collapsing onto the sofa, she buried her head within the many soft cushions and let hysterical sobs rack her body violently.

Why? Why would he do this to her?!

Carl would never have done this to her, he had loved her and Jack said he loved her too, but clearly his idea of loving someone was different to the rest of society's. What would she do now? How could she leave the penthouse or face her family? How could she go to her favourite restaurant or go shopping? How could she wear her new Gucci earrings with a face like that? Who would take care of her? She knew Jack was tiring of her what with his new life, her beauty had been the only thing that attracted him and now she was a monster, a horrible, terrifying, worthless beast that didn't deserve to see the light of day.

"Honey, I'm home!"

The overly theatrical voice had once been gritty and that of Jack Napier, now it spoke in puns and homicidal prose that she had never really listened to beyond what she wanted to hear and what Jack made her hear; trivialities that had suited her and often left her clueless. She was glad it had.

His dress shoes tapped on the wooden floor, growing louder as he approached the sofa.

She looked up; her blonde hair a tangled mane framing the silver grey mask, her blue eyes the only part of her face visible.

"Why Jack? Why did you do this to me?" Her dulcet voice was muffled by the full face mask.

His forehead creased up, the only real indication he was frowning.

"Alicia, did you take off the mask while I was out working?" He spoke as if talking to a child.

She nodded solemnly and a strangled sob escaped her. "I'm…a monster! How could you do this to me, you're supposed to take care of me not mutilate me!" She wailed.

The Joker sighed and removed his hat, "Alicia darling, you're making this all the more difficult than it needs to be, I mean, you're not even finished yet. Well there goes that surprise, why don't you just do as I tell you? I thought you liked surprises, I'll have to think of something else now."

"But I'm hideous, why would I ever want to look like this? I'll never look like a normal woman again!" She sat up and cradled her masked face in her hands, mourning inconsolably for her lost looks.

"Why would you want to look like _them_, when you could look like _me_?" He went to sit next to her; Alicia jumped to her feet and backed away from him stumbling in her too high heels.

"I don't want to look like you! I don't want to be a freak, I want to be beautiful! I want to be how I was!" She ripped off the mask and flung it across the room, the delicate porcelain cracking when it hit the wall.

"Now, now dearest stop your god awful whining, you're being very ungrateful. After all I've done for you." He admonished sternly.

With a hysterical cry of rage, Alicia lunged at him collapsing against his torso too weak to strike out at him like she so desperately wanted to. The Joker held her tightly to his chest, his Chelsea grin leering down at her, mocking her fragile state.

"Well before you critique my work you could at least let me finish."

The large orange orchid he wore in the breast pocket of his tailcoat wasn't just an accessory like she had long thought. He laughed maniacally as acid shot out of the centre of the flower onto Alicia's face.

She screamed and shrieked as the acid ate her flesh, convulsing and writhing in his grasp Alicia tried to get away from the never ending spray hitting her face, neck and even landing on her bare forearms to no avail. Finally he released her, laughing even harder as he watched her lumber around the room still screaming at the top of her lungs whilst knocking over tables and lamps with little care. She tripped and fell into the French doors leading onto the large terrace, the doors thankfully opening but causing her to fall onto her hands and knees. She choked on a breath and forced her stinging eyes open; luckily it appeared her eyes had been missed by the acid the rest of her face had fallen victim to.

"What do you think? It's a new type of acid peel."

He was in the doorway behind her, still laughing.

Forcing herself to her feet she lost a stiletto but continued to limp over to the stone balustrade meant to prevent people from falling the long fifty floor drop to the sidewalk below.

She stared at him still wondering why he was trying to hurt her like he was, tears continuing to pour down her face and seep into her new burns. It didn't take long for her catch her reflection in the glass windows.

The acid had eaten away whole chunks of her flesh; she dimly recognised some of what she could see to be bloodied cheek and jaw bones. Flaps of skin hung limply away from her face, rippling in the gentle breeze. The flesh that remained was red and raw, lumpy and craterous, glistening tear tracks could be seen on the less damaged skin. Her lips were blistered; blood pouring out of her mouth and down her chin, covering the pale silk dress she was wearing in a maroon stain that probably wouldn't ever come out. Blisters also covered the entire top of both her forearms, so much so the jewellery she had been wearing had melted into the gaping wounds.

Hauling herself onto the top of the balustrade, she crawled along until she reached the end, a wider platform home to one of the many stone statues adorning the building. She gripped onto the large limestone beast so tightly her knuckles went white from tension.

"Alicia, don't do anything irrational, you'll only regret it later." He warned her calmly, still standing in the entrance to the terrace.

How could she live like this?

She'd rather die than live the rest of her life ugly.

The building was a behemoth against Gotham's skyscape. Tall and imposing, the Gothic styling of the apartment building was both hideous and beautiful at the same time, the mix of gruesome gargoyles alongside elegant angels, the turrets and towers protruding high into the sky. She watched the penthouse grow tiny as she fell, she heard the normal everyday sounds of Gotham rising up to greet her, Alicia closed her eyes.

The last sounds heard and remembered by many that afternoon were the sickening crack of her body hitting the paved sidewalk and the screams of the people who saw.

The Joker snorted with amusement after watching Alicia step off the edge of the balustrade and hearing the screams from below just seconds later; a strange tremor of grief flashed through him but dissolved just as quickly.

"Well, I suppose that solves that problem." He commented off handedly, turning and re-entering the apartment, Bob his trusted right hand man closed the French doors and locked them behind him.

"There are plenty more cards in the deck after all."


End file.
